last weekend the mister and i headed to houston with a bunch of my family. an old friend was getting married, the astros and rangers were playing and the beach at galveston was calling our names. it promised to be a spectacular weekend. it kinda lied. while the weekend was abundant with laugh till you pee moments and world class photos to memorialize them, just about every event that took place had it's own little catastrophe to accompany it. friday night we watched the astros lose sorely to the rangers, whom they beat the following night and of course we didn't make it to that game. the next morning our excitement at diving into the ocean waves quickly dissipated as we discovered that baby blue crabs were spawning and climbing down our swimsuits to eat us alive. you would have thought we were being attacked by sharks by the way we were screaming. i'm sure we scarred some poor onlooker's children for life. we also thought it wasn't that sunny and maybe we would just bypass using sunblock that day. we were fools. just picture us ladies strolling into our friend's beautiful wedding, which was outdoors might i add, with our cherry colored skin. oh we were lookin real good. sunday involved walking about twenty plus blocks through the crap part, i'm not convinced there's a non crap part, of downtown houston only to discover that the restaurant we planned to eat at was closed on sundays. ninety-five degrees, hungry, dehydrated, twenty weeks pregnant. i complained like a toddler kicking and screaming on the floor. it was very unbecoming. we finally did eat at the original ninfa's and it was delicious and air conditioned. even though it's where i grew up, i am not a fan of houston and i think the feeling is mutual. it could have something to do with my flipping sam houston the bird on the way out of town. oops. here's to remembering the weekend's good moments and laying to rest the bad ones.